


I will be a rainbow

by stargarnet



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 23:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1204192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargarnet/pseuds/stargarnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo confronts Thorin about hiding his colours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will be a rainbow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexisGreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisGreen/gifts), [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/gifts), [amusedinred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusedinred/gifts).



Thorin observed the merriment underway from across the dingy and insidiously damp Laketown tavern. He was seated, back against the wall in a darkened corner so as to survey all that went on, the comings and goings, the potential risks to his companions and the quest. He held a tankard of ale in his hand, though not much had passed his lips. If everyone else was going to get completely stonkered, someone should probably remain a responsible adult. After all, Dis would remove various parts of his anatomy with a spoon if anything happened to his nephews. The others were old enough to look after themselves and each other, mostly. Thorin was confident that they would make it back to their beds, or each others, by the break of day. 

He smiled at the thought. His companions had forged some very special relationships along this journey, even if they thought it was all very discreet. The value of not saying much was the benefit of being able to see and hear everything. He was happy for them and respected their choices. His gaze flicked over the loyal dwarves who had stood by him for so long. He looked at them fondly but yet with some mirth. He chuckled to himself, crinkles of happiness formed at his eyes and around his mouth.

"Do you have any idea how good it is to see you smile, Thorin?" asked a grinning face as its owner plonked down on the bench next to Thorin.

Thorin frowned at the intruder. The Hobbit. Master Bilbo 'the-so-called-burglar' Baggins. He didn't frown because he didn't like the halfling. It was quite the opposite actually, to the point where it was becoming distracting.

"Oh nonononono! No scowling now, Thorin. Please? By Yavanna you are so,” Bilbo’s hands waved futilely in the air between them, “I mean your face lights up when you smile!" Bilbo grinned at him, as if to provide an example of the act. 

The dwarf king raised his eyebrows in disbelief and question. He considered Bilbo for a moment then slowly reached forward, placing the tankard on the table in front of them. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Bilbo watching him intently and still grinning at him like a loon. Thorin sighed audibly as he leant back against the wall, crossing his arms in the process. He closed his eyes as he let his head fall back. In some part of his mind he thought it may deter the Hobbit from continuing his grinning and ridiculous comments. He was wrong.

“Now you see, there we go again, all grey and dark and broody,” Bilbo stated, the disappointment evident in his voice. Thorin cracked an eye and watched the Hobbit shake his head at him.

“What nonsense are you talking of?” he muttered under his breath, opening his eyes properly and turning himself towards Bilbo.

“You, Thorin. You do this stoic, untouchable, uncrowned king under the mountain on a quest routine perfectly. All very majestic,” the last words were practically spat. “You exist in grey and shades thereof.” Bilbo continued to frown at him. “But I have seen your other colours, Thorin. You cannot hide them from me,” Bilbo now started to nod knowingly, the grin returning, finger waving in the air between them. “I have seen them, Thorin.”

“Master Baggins, I believe you are in you cups and should probably stop before you drown in them,” Thorin practically growled.

“You think I have been drinking, Your Majesty? Really? Because I am telling you I can see your colours?” Bilbo appeared slightly saddened.

“Well, I am unable to account for any other reason as to why you would think you can see any colours that may be associated with me.”

“What? Everyone has colours, Thorin, and you,” Bilbo took a breath and smiled tenderly, “I have seen some of the most beautiful colours around you. They are so very rare but they are so very real. I have seen you glow red with the fire and passion that drives you on this quest, that sense of home that you seek. The regal royal blue when you speak of your people and your loyalty to them, the voice that you use to gather our companions and others to your aid.” Bilbo paused briefly in his earnest speech to swallow and scan Thorin’s face taking in each aspect, as he had done many a time, and to search for some sense that the King of Erebor was following his monologue. Thorin continued to watch him intently, unreadable.

“And green. I have seen a warm green surround you when you look at Fili and Kili, when you think no one is watching. Your nephews, part of your heart.” Bilbo leaned forward towards Thorin, his voice only able to be heard between them. “You have great love in you, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin frowned again at the Hobbit. How could such a being believe that he could see “colours” which appeared to be related to his emotions? How dare he presume that he could know such things? If Bilbo were able to see such things, he would have seen a side to Thorin that was perhaps not meant to be seen. Bilbo would have had glimpses of how Thorin felt towards the Hobbit, the growing respect and fondness. How could he not respect the Halfling when he had defended an injured Thorin so fiercely with nothing more than, relatively speaking, a shiny toothpick. Thorin thought back to their embrace after the fiery battle with the Orcs. He had felt such great emotion for Bilbo at the time, and admittedly, ever since. If what Bilbo was saying were true then the colours he supposedly emitted would have been obvious. 

Thorin sneered visibly at the thought. He had no time for this. He had no time to care for such a being. He had no time to reflect upon how he wanted to run his hands through the soft head of burnished hair. Nor could he bother with how he wanted to desperately cup that milky cheek and stroke the soft skin with his thumb, or how he wanted to witness the flutter of golden eyelashes as they closed when he made claim to the soft lips that smiled at him, right now, so very tenderly and gently. Oh, Mahal! What has the Hobbit stirred in him?

“No, don’t do that, Thorin, please?” Bilbo pleaded softly.

“Do what, Master Baggins? I have sat here and listened to your drunken ranting about being able to see my ‘colours’ and hence you believe that you know my feelings, my thoughts, my…”

“No. Not your thoughts. And I am not drunk. I have had just as much to drink as you. The responsibility for this lot cannot rest on one alone,” Bilbo smiled indulgently as if a parent to a rowdy bunch of children. “Anyway, Thorin, your colours give me some sense of your emotions, nothing more. It is a gift from Yavanna. But,” Bilbo faltered and looked down under the table at the strong hands that were clenched atop Thorin’s thighs. Bravely, Bilbo covered one of the hands with his own smaller, much softer hand. He felt Thorin tense immediately and sensed his gaze intensely. 

“Please, Thorin, don’t take those colours away from me?” Bilbo looked up into Thorin’s labradorite eyes. They were softer than he had expected. Perhaps Bilbo was getting through to him.

“I know you hide behind grey when you want no one to see you, no one to hurt you. But I can sometimes get glimpses of your true colours, as I said. Like just now. I need those colours to know that you are real and what we are doing is real and right. I need to know that you care,” Bilbo paused, “care for you quest, your people, your company at the very least.”

“Wait. What do you mean by ‘just now’?” Thorin’s hand moved slightly under Bilbo’s, a tentative almost grasping of the Hobbit’s hand.

“Sorry?”

“You said you saw my true colours, ‘just now’. What do you mean?” Thorin leaned closer to Bilbo, this time taking his hand properly and squeezing gently to encourage an answer. Bilbo smiled at the gesture, relieved but also scared to hold a mirror to Thorin’s emotions.

“As I was talking about Fili and Kili that warm green was there, and then it became layers of red, orange, yellow and green. They were all so very vibrant, particularly the orange and green as if you were thinking of something in particular. It was so beautiful, so very beautiful. They were similar to the colours I saw after we were rescued by the eagles. You know, when you hugged me. These ‘just now’ were more intense though, then suddenly they were gone, as if a snuffer had been placed over a candle.” Bilbo ran a thumb across the callused skin of the blacksmith’s hand. “Please don’t hide your colours from me?” Bilbo’s eyes were shining. “Thorin, I need to know you care if you will not say or show it in any other way.”

Realisation that Bilbo could see, in colour, Thorin’s feelings toward his burglar suddenly was clear as was Bilbo’s need to see those feelings. 

“Bilbo, my Hobbit. Always such surprises from you.” Thorin smiled ruefully, though his expression had softened exponentially. Limbs trembling he did what he had only moments ago fantasised about. He took the soft milky skin of his burglar’s face in his rough hands and rubbed his thumbs along flushing cheekbones, and spoke. “I am a leader. I am a king and I must be focused and show strength. I think you must understand why I must keep my feelings in check.”

“You are also a dwarf with a heart.”

“No, Bilbo. I no longer have my heart.”

“Thorin! Don’t be ridiculous I have seen it, I have felt it!”

“As well you should. You see, burglar, you stole my heart from me some time ago. Now I give it freely. It belongs to you.” Thorin rested his forehead against Bilbo’s as he continued to hold the halfling’s face gently in his hands. “And now, if I may, I wish to steal something from you,” Thorin said pulling back slightly, his gaze settling on the full moist lips in front of him.

“No, Thorin, I give that and all that I am to you. All I ask is that you never keep my colours from me.”

“For you, Bilbo, I will be a rainbow,” Thorin whispered as he closed the small distance between them, watching golden lashes flutter closed against silken skin as he claimed the welcoming lips of his Hobbit.

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of fluff to work out some cobwebs. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Dedicated to the ladies of Thorin's Army and a Princess who needs to remember that her colours are important <3  
> And of course I lay no claim to any Hobbit related thingymijigs.


End file.
